


spinning 'round my head and i stare

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Feelings Realization, M/M, Missing Scene, Therapy, like always!, trans alvie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Alvie's first therapy session ever since House left gives him some much-needed realizations.





	spinning 'round my head and i stare

**Author's Note:**

> fills my 'missing scene' square in my gen prompt bingo card. i love house and alvie and alvie is A Sad Boy.
> 
> enjoy!

Alvie has his first therapy session after House leaves the day afterward. He promised to get better, so he's started taking his meds. 

He walks into therapy with a light step, not as sure of himself as before. The room he's in feels so empty, and he can't help but look for House with every turn of the building. 

He plops down on the chair. “House left,” he says. 

Nolan looks up. “That he did.” He glances at Alvie with interest. “How do you feel about him leaving?”

“I miss him.” He bounces his leg and looks down at the floor. “He was nice. I… we got pretty close and I still feel bad for blowing up at him for starting to actually take his medication. I don't hate him!” He could never hate House. The man told him to stop worshipping him and go back to his loser life, that nobody likes him. But he can’t bring himself to hate him. “I dunno why I said that.”

“House isn't nice,” Nolan points out, clasping his hands together. “Not to you, or to most people. He beat you up, Alvie.” 

“I  _ agreed _ to getting beaten up,” he quickly intercepts, bouncing his leg a little faster. He sticks his bottom lip out. “He thought if he made enough trouble you'd kick him out and I agreed to get this pretty face of mine all bruised up for him.”

Nolan hums and writes something down. “He's still not a nice person, Alvie. Not to most people.” Not to anyone, really, with what Alvie knows about him. Maybe there’s an exception — Alvie wishes he was that exception. “Have you noticed that you're… latching onto him?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head. “He's— he was my roommate.” Having to use past tense for that stings. “He helped me with my rapping, I helped him with his schemes, he was funny and he was great.”

Nolan sighs. “I think you've become quite attached to House.”

“I haven't, he's just a good friend! I'm bad at keeping friends, I always forget to talk to them or I get too personal too fast or I catch feelings or I just mess it up somehow.” He gets up, pacing around. “But in this madhouse, I couldn't do most of those things! So he was there and I talked and I like him. A lot.”

“Like him how?” Nolan prompts. 

“What do you mean  _ how _ —?”

Suddenly the penny drops, and Alvie draws in a breath. He stops pacing and glances at Nolan, the older man's face full of an understanding he hates. He stays still for way longer than he has for the last two months, everything making too much sense. 

Alvie bites his lip. The need to follow House through every one of his stunts, the need to have him for him, the sting in his chest when he joked about everyone thinking they’re gay. Everything makes too much sense. 

He plops back down on the chair. “Like that,” Alvie says. 

“How?”

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “You know the answer, Nolan.” He hesitates, looking at the wall. It's not like it matters, really— House is gone and when Alvie leaves Mayfield he will never see the man again. 

The thought that he'll never see House again makes his stomach upset. 

He finds his voice and says, “Romantically.”

Nolan hums and writes something down again. “Do you usually catch feelings this easily?”

“We were roommates for two months.”   


“He wasn’t kind to you."   


“I’m not good at having good judgment.”   


“That I’ve noticed.”

Alvie laughs dryly, a chuckle that doesn’t sound honest as it goes through his body.

“So, you have a crush on House,” Nolan says, voice too clinical, too doctor-ly. Nolan’s voice always sounds too much like he’s just a patient more, and that's because he is. “ Who just left Mayfield.”   


“And who I’ll never see again.”   


“You  _ could  _ see him again.”   
  
Alvie intercepts, “The chances are slim.”

“Mhm.” 

“The chances are slim and even if I  _ do  _ see him again, what am I supposed to do? Kiss him? He’s straight, he joked about us being gay because he finds it ridiculous! If I kiss him he’ll probably kick my ass  _ again _ .”   


Nolan looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. Alvie looks at him intensely, still a bit angry at himself for not realizing sooner. He’s gay, he’s known he’s gay for ages, how in the world didn’t he recognize his feelings for House as that sooner. He’s always had a hard time reading his own emotions, but this is just ridiculous.

Nolan stays silent for longer than usual.

“What is it?” Alvie pipes up. “What aren’t you telling me? House is gone, you can breach your little confidentiality thing.”

Nolan puts his notepad down and looks at the wall as if he’s looking for something that would tell on him if he tells Alvie. He sighs and looks back at him. “House isn’t straight.”   


He blinks and his mouth gapes a little in surprise. “You’re kidding.”   


“I’m not.”   


“It’s not like it matters.” He groans and threads his fingers in his own hair, messing it up. “I most likely won’t ever see him again. And even if I do, and even if he isn’t straight, it’s not like he’d like me. I’m his annoying younger roommate who’s bipolar and trans and gay and a fucking mess, why would he like me?”   
  
“And he’s your douchey older roommate who’s a painkiller addict with serious narcissism and antisocial behavior. Why would you like  _ him _ ?”   


“Are you trying to raise my standards?”   
  
“Not necessarily.”   
  
“Well, it won’t work, I have terrible taste in men. That’s just how it is. House hasn’t even been my worst crush to date — once I got a crush on a guy who literally beat me up but this time it wasn’t agreed on. He looked good with blood on his shirt.”   


“Self-destructive,” Nolan notes.

Alvie shrugs. “Perhaps.”   


There’s silence for a few seconds, way too long for Alvie’s liking. He makes a noise and starts humming, trying not to think of how House is gone and how he’ll most likely never see him again.

“You wanna talk about your uncle?”   
  
“I’m stuck on House.”   


“You always seem to be.”   


He draws in a breath. “I guess.” He stays silent for a second. “I mean, when I’m out of here I could always go to Jersey and go to whatever hospital House works at, I can Google that— but isn’t that like, stalkerish? He’ll be creeped out. I don’t wanna creep him out. I want him to like me, which he clearly doesn’t. He finds me annoying, like everyone else —”

Nolan hums. “Not everyone finds you annoying.”   
  
“How do you know that?”   
  
“People never have a complete agreement on somebody. Some people find your rambling and rapping endearing rather than annoying.”   
  
Alvie scoffs and gets up. He’s aware that people dislike him, that people find him annoying, and he’s still himself, especially when he’s halfway to a manic episode. “Okay. I’ll — uh, get going, I have feelings to tend to in my feeling garden. Mostly about House. I mean, can you really blame me on House? He’s so good looking it balances everything else out.”   
  
Nolan gives him a tired, mildly amused look. “Okay. See you tomorrow, Alvarez.”   
  
“See you tomorrow, doc.”   


He closes the door behind himself. He talks to a few of other patients before going back to his room. It’s so empty — it’s still his own, and it shows. He has his Puerto Rican flag and his things, but the other bed is empty and lifeless. Because House isn’t there anymore.

Alvie draws in a breath and sits down, starting to hum and fidget. He has way too many feelings for House, and maybe if he gets lucky he can see the man again. He doubts it, and he knows hoping for that is useless, but he can dream. He can always dream.


End file.
